My Greatest Challenge

Standing beside the bed, I set the alarm clock for 6:30AM. And that is the last thing I remember doing before my aneurysm ruptured.

The next thing I recall is apparently waking up from a deep sleep. I don't recall falling asleep, so I think I must have dozed off. Yet I am unable to open my eyes or move. I think maybe I'm dreaming. I keep trying to move, and I feel my legs move some. Gradually I am able to open my eyes. I find myself on the floor, beside the bed. The room appears dim and has somewhat of a red tinge to it. Am I dreaming? Awake? On some kind of drug? I don't know what to think. I realize I need to get help. Using all my strength, I am able to pull myself up onto the bed. I check my alarm clock. It has been about five minutes since I set the alarm. So I must have been unconscious for several minutes. As I lie on the bed, my strength starts returning. Soon I am able to get up. I walk to the kitchen. What the heck is going on? I pace back and forth in between the bedroom and kitchen. I try to remember what happened. I remember setting my alarm. Then I don't remember what happened after that. I realize I need to call help.

I call 911. The conversation goes something like this: “911, what emergency situation do you wish to report, please?” “Yes, uhm – I think I need to go to a hospital to be checked out. I was just getting ready for bed, and all of a sudden I found myself waking up, on the floor....” “Do you think you had a heart attack?” “I'm not sure – I'm not having any chest pain....” “Ok, we will have an ambulance there shortly. Is the door unlocked?” “No, it's locked, I'll answer the door.” “You might wish to go ahead and unlock it. That way they can get in if they need to.” “Okay, will do.”

I realize I may be in the hospital for a while. So I get a few things together, including the charger for my phone. As it turns out, that phone was to become practically my only link to the rest of my world in the coming weeks.

In just a few minutes, there is a loud knock on the door. “Rescue!”, I hear someone shout. I open the door. Rescue personnel ask me pretty much the same questions as the 911 dispatcher asked. Then they ask if I think I am strong enough to walk to the stretcher. “Of course!”, I say. I get into the stretcher and am placed in the ambulance. They ask me where I want to go. Having not been in a hospital since early childhood, I have no idea which hospital is best. The rescue personnel recommend a place called the “MAC Center” (Mercy hospital Ambulatory Care). It is only a couple of miles away. There they can do tests and recommend an appropriate hospital.

As a police scanner listener, I am familiar with the transport procedure used by rescue personnel. What I hear the ambulance personnel say over their radio mike as the ambulance starts moving therefore sounds surreal to me. “We're en route to the MAC center with a 48-year old male patient, starting mileage is …..” I can't believe that this time, I am the patient! Very scary thought.